The Doctor Visits a Quaint Fishing Village
by Teish
Summary: This is a Doctor Who crossover. I wrote this story in memory of my mom, who died unexpectedly last week. What happens when the Doctor arrives in a small town in Maine, that has a reputation...


**Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who, Murder, She Wrote, or any of the associated charaters.**

_**Author's Note: This little story was written in memory of my dear mother, Kathy. She died on March 3**__**rd**__** at the age of 54. She was a fan of Murder, She Wrote. I will miss her every day for the rest of my life. She was a wonderful woman, and everyone who met her loved her. She will be greatly missed…**_

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The Atlantic Ocean crashed mightily against the rocky shore. The rocks stood firm, never yielding to the water. Over time, the water would wear away their resistance, but for now, the rocks refused to give in. Despite the violent battle between the waves and shore, it was amazingly peaceful. The navy blue water of the Atlantic contrasted sharply with the slate gray and pine greens of the Maine coastline. The rugged beauty was breathtaking, and said by the locals to be unmatched anywhere on Earth. It was likely an exaggeration, but those who proudly referred to themselves as "Natives" had an unusual affection for their state. The rhythmic sound of the waves was a backdrop for the songs of the seagulls gliding overhead. This natural soundtrack was only interrupted by an otherworldly churning. A moment later, a blue police box materialized rather suddenly, perched close to the edge of the rocky shore…

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The Doctor poked his head out of the TARDIS and inhaled deeply. "Ahhhhh… Sea air, nothing like it! Come on Martha!" He stepped out, followed by his companion, Martha Jones.

"So, where exactly are we?" she questioned.

"That, Martha Jones, is the Atlantic Ocean, best ocean on the planet! And _we_ are in New England, Maine to be precise. Well, I'm reasonably certain that this is Maine, well, 70% anyway…" he chatted on at a breakneck pace, gesturing wildly.

"Alright, but _why_ are we here? Any crazy alien plots going on that I should know about?"

"Nah, not in Maine anyway. Don't think anything happens up here. Just a nice, peaceful, quiet little corner of your world."

The two started down the road. The Doctor assured her that there would be a town nearby, and that it would be worth the walk. He happily talked on and on about oceans, Maine, quaint fishing towns and anything else that caught his fancy. The conversation only turned serious once.

"Martha, there's something you should know about the people here."

She stopped and rolled her eyes, "I knew it. There had to be _something_ weird going on here. What is it this time?"

He eyed her, looking rather insulted, "Do you really think I go LOOKING for trouble?"

She raised her eyebrows in response.

"He shook his head, "Never mind, and don't answer that! I just wanted to warn you that the 'Natives' as they insist on being called, can be a bit snobbish with people 'from away'."

"Natives?"

The Doctor continued walking, "Well, that's what some of the locals who were born here like to call themselves. They refer to anyone who wasn't born here as 'from away'. There's also something about the last few generations of a family must all have been born here for one to be considered a _true_ native."

"I don't believe you," Martha declared, "That's just ridiculous."

"Fine, but don't get upset when I say 'I told you so'."

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It didn't take much longer for them to reach the town. The Doctor had been right, it actually _was_ quite fascinating. Martha was enjoying seeing the quaint little village, and was pleasantly surprised by how friendly everyone seemed to be. It seemed that everyone knew everyone else. It was quite different from London, certainly. She could easily picture this as a popular vacation spot in the summer. She was finding late April a bit chilly for her taste.

They were by the waterfront watching the busy fisherman and lobsterman come and go with their boats when an old sea captain wandered up and stopped beside them.

"I'd guess," he began, "That the two of you are from away."

The Doctor shot Martha a grin and answered, "Oh yes! We are definitely from away! I'm the Doctor and this is Martha Jones. She hails from across the pond."

Martha smiled at the old man and took his proffered hand, "Hello. It's nice to meet you."

"Captain Jack Martin, at your service ma'am. Most people just call me Captain Jack though. I visited Brittan a number of times during my sea-faring days. Lovely country, almost as lovely as Maine. I certainly hope that you enjoy your visit to Cabot Cove."

The Doctor looked at him with an expression of near-panic, "Did you say, Cabot Cove? We're in Cabot Cove, Maine? Home of the author, JB Fletcher?"

"Ayah. You a fan of her books young man? Wonderful lady, Jessica, a nice neighborly sort." He looked over the Doctor's shoulder and smiled. "Why there she is now! Jessica!" he called as he waved to a woman with a bicycle. She grinned and waved back before heading in their direction. "Here she comes now; I'll introduce you to her."

The Doctor was clearly frantic to leave at this point, "Oh no! We couldn't possibly! We really must be going! Come on Martha!" He nearly pulled her shoulder out of its socket as he took off running.

Martha managed to call over her shoulder, "Nice to have met you Captain Jack!"

Jessica reached the Captain only a minute later. "My, they seemed to be in quite the hurry! How are you today Captain Jack?"

"Fine, fine, Jessica. Odd couple those two. Friendly folk, but definitely from away. The young man seemed to be a fan of your work, but he took off running like a lunatic before I could introduce him to you."

Jessica watched the retreating couple thoughtfully, "That is a bit unusual…"

She and the Captain turned quickly when a fight broke out on the dock. It was broken up rather quickly, but one of the fisherman yelled out, "I'm warning you, stay away from my boat! You come near me again and I swear, I'll kill you myself!"

"Oh my," Jessica remarked worriedly.

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"Doctor," Martha started breathlessly, "Could we possibly slow down a bit?"

"Nope. No time! We have to get out of here as quickly as possible. Ah! There's the TARDIS!" The sight of his beloved ship seemed to give him his second wind and he picked up the pace, dragging Martha behind him.

He dashed up to the control panel and jumped about poking buttons, twisting knobs and the like. Once they had de-materialized he visibly relaxed.

"Um, Doctor," Martha began. "What was that all about? I mean, no offence, but that Jessica lady looked pretty harmless to me. She's probably someone's grandmother, and she's just an author."

"Cabot Cove! You don't know about Cabot Cove?! And Jessica Fletcher? That town is like some kind of murder magnet! They should put 'Murder Magnet of Maine' on the brochures. Oh, I don't know if that was clever or just ridiculous…"

Martha sighed; his attention span was unbelievably short, especially given his age. "Doctor," she interrupted, "Can we get back to the answer to my question?"

"Right! Well, Cabot Cove has the distinction of two percent of its population all being murdered in the space of less than a decade! And that's not all! Most of the murders that took place there had victims who were from away, like us. Blimey they had what, about a murder a week? Why people continue to visit the town, I will never figure out!"

"That is weird. Alright, I don't blame you for wanting to get out of town, but what's the story with this JB Fletcher? Surely she isn't the one behind all of the murders, is she?"

"Well, not directly. Some internet sites claim that death follows me wherever I go. But Jessica Fletcher, she's the one who leaves a trail of dead bodies! She's never the murderer, but murders seem to happen all around her. She so busy solving the mysteries that I can't figure out when she has time to even write!"

"She's not an alien or something?" Martha asked.

The Doctor took a deep breath and shook his head, "No, perfectly human. Just some sort of knack for getting tangled up in murders. So, you see why I'd like to avoid her at all costs."

"Yeah," she sighed, "You get into enough trouble on your own. I can't imagine the trouble the two of you would find! Why doesn't she ever get blamed for any of the murders? Surely someone must find it all rather suspicious?"

"That Martha is something that many have speculated about. Seriously, if the local police are so thick that they need a mystery writer to solve their cases, do you think it will occur to them to question why said writer is _always_ surrounded by dead bodies?"

"I suppose not."

"Agatha Christie!" he shouted.

"I'm sorry," Martha replied, startled by his outburst.

"Agatha Christie! I'll bet she's brilliant! I'd love to meet her someday. That lady knew how to write a mystery!"

"I'm guessing that she didn't spend her life surrounded by murders."

"You never know, Martha Jones," the Doctor remarked with a grin. "So, where to next?"


End file.
